The grace of a child

I was hesitant about sharing a photo of my son, but I'm pretty sure he's okay with me sharing this one.

I don’t talk about my family much here. Well, I do–I just tend not to get into specifics. I’m comfortable sharing myself, and obviously my family is a huge part of my life, but the last thing I want to do is share something they would rather I keep private.

However, recently I was asked if I could contribute a guest post for another blog, and this particular story about my son came to mind. I was pretty angry when I wrote it last year. Reading it again gave me some perspective. I am often guilty of assuming that raising kids has more to do with what I can teach them. More often than not, it’s more about what they teach me. They humble me on a fairly regular basis. For that I am grateful.

To read the story, please join me over at Tammy Patrick’s blog, Nurse’s Notes.

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7 Responses to “The grace of a child”

  1. Louise July 15, 2010 at 8:08 am #

    Kat — my daughters have taught me what it means to Love — and that is a great gift. They’ve also taught me how to be humble, and oh right — wrong a lot! 🙂
    .-= Louise´s last blog ..Life is Good =-.

  2. Candy July 15, 2010 at 9:03 am #

    Oh I love that post – got me in the gut back then, too.
    .-= Candy´s last blog ..Tasty Bites- Brown Rice Penne with Roasted Brussels Sprouts =-.

  3. Michelle DeRusha @ Graceful July 15, 2010 at 11:04 am #

    Your son is a cutie — and his story really hit home with me this morning. What a gentle, rich soul!

  4. lynn July 15, 2010 at 1:21 pm #

    Oh yes, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you sharing that picture. Kids can teach us, but I do often think I am the one who has to teach them, and not let them be who they are. Thank you for reminder.
    .-= lynn´s last blog ..Celebrating Canada Day with Great Reads by Canadians =-.

  5. Maureen July 15, 2010 at 2:55 pm #

    Great post, Kat.

    I’ll never forget the day, many years ago now, when a child my only called his friend, came for a visit and after we took him home and returned to our own home we discovered quite a few things were missing. My son had left his bedroom for only a few minutes but in that time things he treasured (he was perhaps 9 then) were taken without his knowledge. I’ll never forget the look on his face or the question why. He said he’d have given them to the child had he asked. That child, of course, never again came to our home.
    .-= Maureen´s last blog ..Interview with Poet Jenne R Andrews Part 4 =-.


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